Jew On the Fringe

2008-10-23T14:28:00.001+02:00

A whole year
a period of loud and grainy silence
seasons that change
air, empty air
grey
grey skies
more grey hair

smoke

der dopplgenger
you stand outside downstairs looking up at the study window
I look down to see space where you should be
but you're not there
gone are your reflections in puddles
gone is the grit on your hands and under your finger nails
gone gone gone

ending with no beginning
broken cycles
but the mirror tells me something different

Kaddish
breathing in the damp air
wet mornings of meaningless words and angry old men
not like you
more shades of carbon
but no more oxygen

Unspoken things I never told you
Did you know you were my hero?
Apple of your eye

But now without you

Calm now gone
Family broken and full of rage
Glue now unstuck and unsticking
Removed without being replaced

Grey-sheen plastic covering your eyes

Hospital smells
Taste of hand-disinfectant on my beard
Sensations still tasted and smelt
You still come and stand be side me
But you are not here
But I still here the machines beeping

faded

As The Garden So Is The Gardener - Patrick Todd z''l

2007-11-10T19:10:00.000+02:00

Patrick Todd z''l (1937-2007)

dutiful husband, loving father and keen gardener

Patrick was an unassuming man, and yet strong in his silence. He slipped quietly away in hospital on the 20th Cheshvan 5768 (01.11.07) following a series of heart attacks, having been a seemingly healthy and active man.

Born in the family village of Hargrave, he was the only child but was part of a much wider & stronger family, being raised in Ampthil where his mother & father were firmly embedded in their community. His love was in the scouts, and like his father, a blacksmith, he was a deeply practical man who loved cars and making things. His passion for "the motor" took him to working for Vauxhall Cars where he met his wife Marion. She the secretary and he the engineer.

The "glue of the family" keeping his wife and children grounded and together, he had a family of four children. All of them were raised to be productive and self-sufficient. His mother's musical talents came through the genes - he rarely sang, except to Brass Bands, but encouraged his children in their musical endeavours even when the notes were far from melodious.

The work of his hands was not just limited to a paid job or through his children, rather he was also a keen renovator. Moving from one derelict house to another, he and the family would take part in taking a house in dire condition and renovating to the standard of a professional craftsman. Even in his last family home in Peterborough, 20 years on he was often found down at the bottom of the garden fiddling with bits of wood making a new bird-feeder-table, or up the ladder re-pointing the cement around the chimney.

And in his gardening and building lay his spirituality. He loved the beauty of the earth. Tucked away in a side-draw of the welsh-dresser his son found a poem about G-d and the garden. Whilst the poem was put away and is now lost, it stands to memory that Patrick's internal life was rarely seen or expressed through speech or overt demonstration, rather it lay deeply embedded in the soil he dug, the foundation to the walls he built and the undercoat of the paint he slapped on the doors and window frames.

In his later years he moved from cars to trains - he'd always loved model railways and the old steam trains. And whilst it may have seemed unprestigious, took up a position with WAGN railways as a station worker. He had never seemed so happy as to be able to work the platforms, chat to customers and report back to his family members who needed to use the train, with the precisest of information and best way of getting from A to B.

Marion became more involved in the City of Peterborough and its politics. As a loyal husband he took her new career almost as seriously as she did, always at her side and at every occasion supporting her. She became the Deputy Mayor and quickly after was elected to be the City's Mayor. He attended over 350 events as the Mayor's Consort. But his unassuming style and dignity as "the common man" made him an accessible figure.

His illness & death came as a surprise. Thankfully his illness was brief and his family were able to be at his bedside, the love & care shown to him being a tribute to the love he had shown them. But like the garden, so is the gardener. Once a tree standing strong and tall, now fallen he still leaves a deep impression within his family & loved ones. His shadow still falls on those who knew him and the blessing of his memory will soon, no doubt, cause others to grow and live-on in his image.

In the words of George Eliot;

"The growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs."

We remember him now; may he remain in our hearts as a continual blessing.

Seasons Changing

2007-10-14T01:22:00.000+02:00

The weather is changing and finally we almost thought we would have rain today. Coming from rain-drenched England I thought I would never experience the shear joy of such a feeling. It's been a period of almost 6 months without any rain at all... not a drop. So with my plants turning a little pale and I a little sun-burnt, it feels like it's long-overdue to have a good drenching.

Just as the weather is changing so to we're entering a new phase. I'm no longer "new" at work and moving into a non-social-work service has certainly provided me with food for thought. On the good news, I'm meeting some amazing organisations as I promote the project's volunteering programme. And also positive has been my sense of valuing what I had in my previous professional life - working with people in need of help and support. I've come to the conclusion that there is something quite special in being able to work with families and challenging in trying to promote change with people who don't want to. It's all a bit of a far-cry from what I'm doing now, but I'm working towards getting back there, and moving closer everyday.

My private practice is also now starting to build up. So now my mind is back in the therapy world too... I'm also working my way through a psychiatry text book written in Hebrew, and academic Hebrew is a whole 'nother ball-game. Turns of phrases, Aramaic expressions - I feel a little overwhelmed at times but I'm plodding on.

As a relief from all of the tensions of work I'm continuing to work on the second door - the first is now completely finished and a lovely blue - and making the place look beautiful - we now have some hand-woven carpets from the Old City and some great glass beads hanging off of the candelabra-chandelier. With winter coming the warmer colours are coming out through carpets, throws, the bed now has a duvet on it and I'm wearing trousers for the first time in ages.

Home Sweet Home

2007-09-05T17:50:00.000+03:00

I've been busy making the nest of late. Not only have I been a dab hand at DIY but I've been doing other stuff which feels like a return to normality after a summer of being up in the air. So I thought I'd include some pictures here of stuff I've been up to.

The first big project has been stripping one of the balcony doors. Following Avi's complaint that the TV stand was a dull IKEA blonde-wood I decided to get handy with some paint. The colour marks a shift from those cold European days where I was really into red, rather now I'm soaking in (almost literally) a gorgeous blue... a profusion of it... (remember those old art days Sophie?)

Going to the hardware store I was choosing my paint and came across the colour description - "Techelet" it said... It struck me as somewhat weird and wonderful that I now live in a country where the colour for sky blue uses a word that is so ancient that the colour "techelet" is mentioned in Torah. I didn't quite expect to find a moment of spiritual reflection in the hardware store... but it seemed to happen and I was struck that being an Hebrew-speaking Israeli I'm confronted with my Biblical roots in more than one way... and whilst the colour is used for the ritual 4-cornered garment... I was also using the colour for my TV stand and balcony door... and in someway I was struck about how, like the door, spiritual journeying is like painting... you strip the wood of the old cracked-up and broken paint. Sand down the wood so that you really get to the bare and unadulterated section of the door. Taking filler to fill up the cracks and after an undercoat or two finally you're ready for the techelet paint... A window to both home and soul...

Aside from this I've also been getting back to baking. After a period of being off of yeasty stuffs, I've gotten back to at least making bread again. As cultures collide in Israel so too does the food. So I'm working on bread making using mixes of whole wheat flour, spelt & rye. The Russians love their flours... and thanks to them so do I.

Then there's the beauty of cafe Turkie, tea Nana (mint tea) and sponja... cleaning the floor with soapy water with whooshes and splooshes using a cleaning tool that looks like a gardening-rake but rather than spikes has a flat rubber piece to swill the water with...

But most loved of all is the new found skill of gardening (thanks Dad - yes I seem to really have inherited your abilities of DIYing, gadgets and gardening). Thanks to various unsuspecting plants on roadsides, and Bar Mitzvah give-aways-for-guests, we now have a balcony with geraniums, an olive tree, sun-flowers, bushes and herbs... well I thought that if I love Tea Nana so much I ought to just grow the mint to make it.

The only thing that now seems missing is getting back to singing in a choir and playing the viola... watch this space.....

Thought for the Child of Sderot

2007-09-05T13:33:00.001+03:00

I know that sometimes I'm too political on my blog and that what you want to hear is stuff about my life and not about the "political" and the "propoganda." But whilst the BBC seems to happily write stuff about how terrible Israel is, and when the New Statesman writes articles accusing Jewish Youth organisations of promoting terror akin to that of Jihadist summer camps teaching children how to be suicide bombers... Well I thougt it would do well to also write about the daily trauma that befalls the children and adults of Sderot. The Red Alert sounds over the tanoid that happen two or three times a day seem like a regular occurrance - normal for younglings in Sderot. But the shock comes when, like a few days ago, one Qassam (bomb) exploded just outside the classrooms of the nursery.

The BBC tried to make this destructive act of Palestinian militants sound like it was Israel's fault by blaming the Israeli State for not "protecting" its citizens. But unanswered in my mind was that, surely the point is that militants don't want to just take the lives of soldiers in combat but would rather kils civillians. The militants don't want just revenge but rather tragedy by sending their children out to play near the Qassam launchers, knowing that Israel will be unable to identify them as children from the air and that the killing of child-civillians will cause yet more damage to the image Israel has in the International world. No one seems to ask to what lengths the militant Ismlamists will go - even sacrifice their children - in order to end a State of Israel that still stands for a democracy that tries to protect the minority, that has a Supreme Court that tells the government to reroute the wall to allow Arab villagers access to the land they work -that protects their human rights. But few of the UK news reports note that Jews work for peace in Arab communities, few note that would we withdraw to 1960's boundaries the militants would still fight because Israel does not have a right to exist in an Islamic region. Few articles in the UK get printed to tell you that only a few dyas ago the Israeli Army stopped another suicide bomber... And yet still the silent trauma of living in Sderot is underplayed by the trauma of rationed electric in Gaza because Israel is finally exhausted that the only way to stop the militant is to starve the militant...

Things I Miss About the UK

2007-08-22T13:41:00.000+03:00

I know, I know... this may make you think that I want to go back to the UK, but in reality it's just a little homesickness for the familiar. Making a home here in Israel with Avi is simply wonderful but there are moments when I just wish that I could do certain things that at the moment I'm not capable of, or that just aren't on offer here in the Middle East.

The list of my homesickness is as follows...

Supermarkets, clean & tidy supermarkets, supermarkets where there are no fisty-cuffs at the checkout till, supermarkets where people don't leave their trolley in queue and then go and do a second shop that leaves you waiting for 5 minutes of free-checkout time - because you know that if you jump in before them, even though they are making you wait, they will cause a scene and start a fight.

Janet's morning minyan services at West Central Synagogue - the mix of English and Hebrew without it being "churchy", the friendly discussion half-way through a Torah reading, the intimacy of a small group in a synagogue.

Sitting on the underground and being able to read a book for half an hour without distraction because there's nothing else to look at whilst down-under.

Working with people in therapy, talking to a crowd of parents who are struggling with their autistic kids and knowing that with just a few tricks I can teach them their immediate stress will be alleviated.

Having a full-time job with professional responsibility

Not feeling like my mouth has been sewn-up and my brain removed when the cleaner comes in and talks to you because you haven't a clue what she's talking about...

Having a team meeting and not feeling that you've not been draged through a hedge-backwards if only because of the language

Having coffee in Starbucks with Janet

The variety of buidlings and building materials of the houses... if I see another stone-clad Bauhaus building I sware I will scream and throw myself on the floor kicking and screaming

Good Vegetarian Curry

Free libraries

A decent salary

London & Manchester accents

Knowing what to say when you need to call the tax-office, bank, news-paper delivery man

Being able to get good tea from any supermarket

Whittards of Chelsea

The Joy of Nesting

2007-08-21T09:42:00.000+03:00

The stress of moving seems to have finally ceased and now we have the furniture in the right place, pictures hung and the kitchen more or less functioning. Ohhh and at last we also had the HOT Internet person round so finally we have the Internet & TV working... so now I'm back blogging.

Along with all of our changes, Jerusalem too has also gone through something of a scene change or two. With the summer season upon us, tourists pour in with all of the energy and desire to soak up the religious air of the city. The usual difficulties of the cities more fundamentalist groups seems to have subsided into a positive expression of religious identities. People come here to Jerusalem to be open and expressive about their Jewish identities. One person suggested that they come because they see their identity mirrored in the people around them, perhaps also they find here a safe space to be more open about the Jewish-self and a space that connects them to past events that make Jerusalem the most important city to us as Jews.

Whilst this is all wonderful the move and the soon-coming start of work brought Avi & I to the decision to go away and enjoy a vacation up by the Kinneret. And for the first time I went up to the very tip of the North where we could see Syria & Lebanon. The views were spectacular, the countryside almost like the rich green spaces of the UK, and the people friendly and giving. We went into the Golan area and stopped off for a break in one of the Druze villages. I felt strangely at home sitting in the coffee house eating baclava. Then as we drove back to the kibbutz where we were staying we made an emergency stop on one of the quieter roads as a wild boar hurtled across. I remember the way we and the wild boar had a 2 second pause where the whites of our eyes in shear panic met with each other and then the boar ran off and into the distance.

And then back home...

So now that work has started I'm filled with memories of working in London. The sitting at the desk working with people feels similar but I'm now sitting in meetings all in Hebrew and looking at websites that don't have a good translation page... so I'm learning how to get over shear fright and trying to wade my way through stuff which I know I could never have even imagined to have been able to do at the beginning of my aliyah voyage. The transitioning now feels slower than before but I'm watching TV, reading the web-pages, looking for other work in all-Hebrew environs and at some point I think I will finally get there and for the main part I think I'm understanding a lot of what's going on.

Where is it written?

2007-07-31T00:28:00.000+03:00

We've moved! And whilst Jerusalem has been sitting through a "hot corner" (a very hot period with no air) we've managed to settle in to our new apartment. It's great to be home and it's even greater to be unpacked!!!

The summer has also been busy from other angles. I completed a top-up Hebrew programme and after doing a test have been placed in a Daled-Hey class (in English terms this means that I started this time last year in class A and am now in class D/E) - not quite sure how I managed that but I guess I had a measure of luck and ability. However the move and the soon-coming work have meant that I've decided to take a holiday and finish the course early. We've also had some of Avi's family staying in Jerusalem and it's been great to get to know them on a more personal note. Plus guests from across the globe have been dropping in and seeking our attention. It seems strange that I feel I've met more people here than when I was in London.

On top of all of this I'm also now trying to put together a proposal for a Rabbinic Ordination programme. For those of you who have been following the developments - I decided that I'm sitting on a gold-mine of Jewish learning here and that, rather than try and squeeze into a denominational mould, I'd rather just do some serious learning. Hopefully such learning would bring me ordination and earn the title rabbi from being a well-read and Jewishly aware person.

In the build up to get the programme of studies set up and approved I've often thought about Singer's story of Yentl - how a girl wants to learn and enter the yeshiva world - a world exclusive to men. To some degree the locked Beit Midrash door and the desire to learn seem parallel to my own experience. How many of us want to sit and learn, to be enriched by the text, but at what cost that learning often comes... Then there is the simpler and more basic fear. On the one hand I feel enormous optimism and on the other utter dread at the thought of how much I need to learn before I can pick up a page of Talmud and read it independently. I hope that one day I have the skill to be able to read Tanach, Mishnah & Talmud fluently and not just to stop at the word but look into the meaning.

Oleh News

2007-06-17T09:42:00.000+03:00

Since registration as a social worker I seem to have had a bout of luck. Merkaz haMagshimim has offered me work as a social action co-ordinator; running events to train people for volunteering positions and setting up/supporting pressure groups. Merkaz haMagshimim is a centre for young olim (people who immigrate to Israel under the law of return) and a social action centre so it's likely that I'll be using English & Hebrew as I ease my way into working in Israel. On top of this job I seem to also have a few other possible openings but will say more when something firm emerges!

On the home front; Avi & I are moving! After a great year in North Talpiot, we're going down hill to a place that's got an enormous balcony, bigger rooms and closer to the people we love. The whole event of looking for a place has been the usual traumatic experience but now that we've found our new home we're getting ready to put everything in to boxes in order to move the majority of our stuff by the end of June....

The year of volunteering that I pledged to do when I first made aliyah has been realised and is now almost at an end. It's been great working in the special education school and I've really enjoyed working with young people in crisis. The time seems all very short and I wish I could carry on just being a volunteer - taking a year out from being completely responsible and just learning again on how to relate to people without that position/role of authority has been such a valuable experience.

The work of social action and volunteering now continues on but now I'm the co-ordinator and there will be more responsibility in finding placements for people. I guess one of the benefits of my experience has been not only networking but also that I know what it's like from the ground up, and coming from the Disabilities world in the UK am really interested in promoting social action projects that focus on Disability Rights.

As for Hebrew - the Yeshiva has an ulpan which I'm going to betaking this summer. Following the entrance test I seem to have gone from nothing at the beginning of aliyah to level Gimmel/Daled. The news is good but I know that I'm still a long way off from being that Hebrew debonair. My strength is reading but now I realy feel the need to push myself in speaking and trying to write actual pieces - something I'll have to do once I'm in the throws of social work...

However, the sun is shining, it's really hot and it's time to go and read...

Apartheid Britain?

2007-06-03T20:32:00.000+03:00

Over the past few weeks there have been countless pieces in the international press about Israel's response to the on-going attack by Hamas, Islamic Jihad & Fatah groups. The articles often seem to minimise the actual degree of rockets cascading from the Palestinian Gaza strip into undisputed Israeli territory. So too, the headlines on the BBC and the photography of the "Israel-Palestinian" conflict shows a bias in comparison to the experience of a number of us here, on the Israeli side. Here in Israel we see the on-going destruction of one of it's cities, the fleeing of people from the area (we know from personal reports that the situation is worsening even when the rockets are apparently starting to decrease) and the economic destruction to a city that relies heavily on its trade and commerce.

The Palestinian factions have agreed cease-fire after cease-fire. None of them have held because the militants are now localised and don't listen to the supposed Hamas/Fatah politicians. The English press often ignores the fact that Israel has no one to negotiate with that has any power in the matter... But what we do have are local terrorist cells that seek to bring about the demise of a civilian population.

Meanwhile, Britain's University lecturers have just voted to start an economic & cultural boycott of Israel. UNISON - the organisation which covers most of the UK's Health & Public service organisations is also set to hold a ballot on whether or not to boycott Israel. It seems remarkable that the organisations that most often promote dialogue the UK's elite are now looking to cease contact with. And that despite their boycott no reasonable solution from the UK academics has been proposed. Israel stands accused of being an apartheid state.

And yet the Islamic fundamentalism & terrorist activity continues - the placards of calls to behead people if they disrespected Islam in the UK are now history but for us here in Jerusalem the continuing struggle against fundamentalist militants is a daily news story or battle. For example, a couple of weeks ago Islamic Militants had circulated instructions on how to kill the "Infidel" (re-word Christian) in Bethlehem - the city that once held a Christian majority has now been turned into a Muslim fundamentalist stronghold as threats to individuals & bombings of Christian shops, etc have driven Christians away from the area. Also, last week 2 militants fired on border guards a mile away from our home. And we continuously see the Sderot bombings in the press & hear of them from people coming from there. In the same way we can also watch on Hamas-funded TV programmes children between ages 5 & 6 years, all in Hamas army-uniform some dressed in Balaclavas, holding mock military operations and sing chants that call for an end to Jews and the Jewish State.

But Britons think they know best. British Unions think that Israel is an apartheid country, British lecturers and workers believe Israel is the aggressor. Britons like to make the false distinction between Jew overpowering Arab and turning a complex situation into Black & White with metaphors to suit.

In the years that I lived in the UK, I was fascinated by the colonialist attitudes that pervaded the international affairs - that everyone else did it worse, that everyone should live according to the middle-class position. But now, with that well-learned skill, I look back at Britain and see it in as much of a reprehensible state - the child abuse, the racist killings, the discrimination, the sexism, the unwritten economic segregation of Whites, Blacks & Asians; The Black on Black killings in Tottenham and Southwark, the police brutality, the misuse of political power in local & central government. When did Britain look at itself in the mirror more clearly? When did it call for sanctions on itself when it has and still does act unethically? And when will it learn that it's not in a position to comment or understand a confrontation of ideologies and guns in the Middle East?

Revelation & Art Therapy

2007-05-29T16:31:00.000+03:00

Summer has finally arrived and we're in the middle of a hot and balmy day. Time seems to stand still in this heat and whilst the rain has been a major blessing - with all the flowers now in full bloom - the warmth from the sun has also been a welcome change from the wet & windy days.

Shavuot (The Feast commemorating the Giving of Torah) seems to have heralded in the Summer with a swing. Our Tikkun L'eil Shavuot (night-study) was slightly different from others around in the city. Our session focused on the way Revelation is communicated to people, but rather than using just texts for study we incorporated art into our learning. The room was full of people painting, books and of course... food. Our aim was to move the participant beyond the purely textual relationship and to enter into the visual-physical realms. People connected in their own way whilst listening to texts being read and the workshop became something like a meditation and conversation between each other and the paper we drew/painted on. It was an intimate event, of people expressing themselves in many different ways. What most people noticed was that in the texts, some of the most graphic and colourful images were depicted. People drew faces, eyes, feathers, flames, houses, all as a response to what we had heard. The room became a feast for the eyes and ears. But perhaps the strangest part of the session was that we didn't share the things that we drew - on the one hand this left me feeling that we should have designed the session better but then on reflection I think it was also a comment about our relationship to the Sacred - that it is both public (as was our gathering) and yet very private (in our moments of communicating our innermost feelings about Revelation on paper).

A New Israeli Social Worker is Born

2007-05-17T21:01:00.000+03:00

It's amazing... I just received news that the Ministry of Social Welfare has approved my application and that I am now a registered social worker within the State of Israel!!!!

Now all I have to do is start getting work... please G-d this should happen quickly and easily.

A big THANK YOU to those of you who wrote letters supporting me through this process.

If everything's illuminated, where's the light switch?

2007-04-28T22:14:00.000+03:00

I'm processing a lot of material at the moment. Firstly, with the dropping out of Ulpan I've now made a drive on getting in to volunteering work in all-Hebrew environments. Through connections, I've now found a place to volunteer/work - a specialist school for children with developmental delay. The interview and then having a taster of the work by spending the morning there was both wonderful & terrifying. Sure enough I will settle in and not be in so much shock but the surround sound of Hebrew and it being the only language spoken was a little like learning to paddle to keep my head above water. 2 or more months of this to come and hopefully I'll have a much better sense of the language and a major plus is that I'm working in an area that fascinates me - a coming home after my social work days in the UK. Be sure to hear more as time goes on...

Second to this has been my search for a way to train as a rabbi. The search has, thus far, been an interesting one. As some of you may know, the Conservative movement in Israel has made the decision not to allow openly gay or lesbian rabbis - a decision that is contrary to that made by the 2 other main seminaries in the movement based in the USA. And as you know from the last post, and in my meeting with one of the staff of the Reform seminary here in Jerusalem, training under the auspices of the Reform community is also inaccessible at present.

So what now?

I'm asking a more basic question now than "What training programme/institution do I want to work under?" Now I'm asking the question of "What do I want?" Smicha can just mean going through an institution and getting an Ordination like that of getting a doctorate or masters. Perhaps the beauty of going to the Conservative Yeshiva this year has been that it's taught me that there is more to life than just learning one style or sectarian point of view. More to life than just studying for exams and to please people acdemically. Do I really want to committ my life to just one group be it the Reform, Conservative or Orthodox Movement?

When I left Oxford one of the real gifts that I found in learning there was that it was a meeting place for people from all persepctives. It was one of the apsects of my learning that impressed me, it made my learning both more rounded and more interesting. The danger of just learning at a Rabbinic institute is that I'm mainly studying with similar types of people - people with similar aims and desires, working with the unsaid, agreed underlying assumptions about how to treat the act of learning Religious Texts. Do I really want to just study with Rabbinic-types or do I want a broader scope of people to study with, people who don't necessarily accept the foundations of belief that I do?

I think I'm gradually carving out a future where, rather than be "Rabbi" to one movement, I'd have a smicha which worked on learning with non-rabbinic candidates - as a form of personal/spiritual development; opening my eyes to not just the texts that I study but also to the people I meet. If I am to be molded in my learning then wouldn't it be better to go and study amongst the people that I want to care for?

Perhaps this isn't the easiest road to take, but maybe it's the most challenging/grounding and interesting option. Better that I be a rabbi for the sake of learning & the wider community than be a leader for just part of the community with a label attached.

So, like the emersion in Israeli/Hebrew social work, watch this space...

More Ways than One to be a Jew?

2007-04-27T18:20:00.000+03:00

Living in a world of Ortho-Centric Jews the Reform Movement in Israel is a relatively small and less accepted stream of Judaism. However, in both the US & the UK the Progressive Jewish community is more established. In this way the movement in Israel is striving to establish itself as a way of taking away the Orthodox monopoly on religion and in so doing is training students for the rabbinate and teachers and social workers on becoming progressive Jewish leaders within their fields. That is, except for relatively new olim.

In speaking with a relatively new oleh who had a strong background in Jewish community work in the US it became apparent that, inspite of the accrued skill he had been told that he would not be accepted to the Rabbinic training programme because he wasn't "Israeli" enough yet. Their advice was to get a Master's degree in Jewish Studies from an accredited Israeli University or programme, to become heavily involved with the Reform movement but that even then there was only a slim chance of getting into the programme.

My initial reaction was one of disbelief, whilst yet still understanding both sides - on the one hand the Reform movement wanted someone who could work within the Israeli culture and community, someone who could reflect Israeliness back to the community to which s/he was to serve and yet on the other that here was a man full of enthusiasm, highly experienced in Jewish community work, a committed Zionist with a fresh perspective.

It was thus, somewhat surprising to see that the Reform Movement was turning him down - who wouldn't want someone like him? Could it be that the Reform Movement's Rabbinic training programme was discriminating against olim? I also wanted to ask the question - would a University programme or a Psychotherapy training unit tell a candidate that they wouldn't be allowed into a programme because of their immigrant status?

Asking around in other circles I discovered that the Israeli Reform Rabbinic training-programme had a strong reputation for only taking those born and bred in Israel. Thus my question changed to"How many ways can one be a Jew in Israel?" Can one only be Reform, Jewish and a community leader if one is "Israeli-born" with enough cash to pay for a Master's programme? Or is it possible to be a Reform Oleh Rabbi - reflecting the very fact that Israel is a largely immigrant culture. What does it mean to be truly "Israeli"? What does it mean to be a Reform Jew?

יזכור - Remembrance

2007-04-22T17:35:00.000+03:00

We remember our dead, those who gave their lives and fought for our country's creation and for its continued survival.

Yom haZikaron (Day of Remembrance) is a spine chilling event. We commemorated Yom haZikaron laShoah (Holocaust Memorial Day) last week with a Siren stopping virtually all of Israel for a 2 minute silence. We stood on the balcony of our apartment and watched as the cars pulled over, people got out and paused.

Last Shabbat we sat round a dinner table talking, amongst other things, about the children in the neighbouring garden. One little girl was talking to her brother, he said that Yom Hatsma'ut was a sad day, his sister corrected him and said, "no, that's the happy day when we celebrate the beginning of our country. The sad day is when we think of the people who died for our country. That's the day before." The little boy then remarked about Yom haShoah being the sad day when people also died. And then the conversation became complicated and faded away.

Aside from the fact that it's amazing that young children are knowledgeable about the two days of commemoration of our dead, it seemed sad to us, as we sat in the garden listening, that such younglings should be so aware of death. Our host remarked: "What would children in Toronto or London be talking about at the age of 5 & 7 years of age? Would they know death so well and on such a scale?" The conversation turned to our host's son who had been in last year's war in Lebanon. Two of his friends had died in the conflict. This post-war memorial will be another difficult day of remembrance.

But what of the two children? Perhaps the sorrow we have is two fold: Firstly the sorrow in the death of our own and Secondly the fact that our people's children are faced with the horror of war, death, and the difficulty we have had for survival over the course of history.

In memory of them we say Kaddish and pray for peace

The Wandering Jew of Baqa

2007-04-17T11:45:00.000+03:00

I know that it's been a little while since I last wrote but it's been a season thick with festivals and commemorations - and there's still more to come...

Pesach cleaning was a great way to do something physical that mirrored the internal process. Clearing out the old and making room for the new, assessing what must stay, could stay if I had space and needs to go is something that seems to be an on-going theme for me. But what as a Jew, coming out of a metaphorical mitsrayim, am I heading towards?

Perhaps the very fact that our ancestors made a journey into the unknown is a source of comfort in company. I made aliyah, we got married, I started to learn Hebrew, we've started to learn what it means to be in a relationship. The list goes on. But every time a door opens and a new way shown I am faced with a decision - Do I go in? Do I look for another door?

As you all know, I've been searching for another place to continue studying in Ulpan, but thus far I've only found the schools frustrating - the methods are inexact, time consuming for the amount that is actually learnt and often there's little opportunity to actually speak in class. Thus I gave up being in another class and have been learning at home. Whilst I know that discipline needs to be tighter I'm learning and I'm getting a better sense of the language.

On another note connections are coming my way with regard to working in Hebrew. Meetings are being set up and there is hope that I might start working as a volunteer soon. But how scary is this? Firstly I felt afraid - my Hebrew may be vastly better than it was before I immigrated, but I still talk with the linguistic knowledge of a young child. Now I ask the question "will I survive in this world of Hebrew? Will I sink or swim?"

It's been easy to find opportunities to bury my head in the sand. Perhaps I could just get by working with tourists, overseas-students and resident Anglo-Saxim? Perhaps... But this seems a failure to me.

Social working has been held up because the Ministry for Social Care has never had a social worker from my University - it means a delay of another couple of months so hopefully we'll hear by the end of May about the decision. Meanwhile I'm planning other longer-term options. A door which was open when I lived in London was in going to rabbinic school. And thinking of my future now as an Oleh (immigrant) I've gone back to the idea again and again.

Machon Schechter's decision not to admit openly gay & lesbian students to the rabbinic programme is a major problem. But there are still a number of options. So I'm having another set of meetings with rabbis and educators to see what the various programmes can offer me.

The challenge of getting ordination from a place in Israel is that I will have to have a full and fluent knowledge of Hebrew. The idea is frightening, petrifying even. But perhaps this is the struggle that I need to have to get me absorbed into the country.

And struggling as I do, I go on. Step by step. I wrestle with the challenges infront of me. But the journey has been interesting thus far and I'm looking forward to getting my teeth into some serious studies again. With my skills as a therapist, someone who enjoys Jewish studies, singing and painting I may find a path to integrate all these different paths. But in all of this meandering I remain one of the wandering Jews in Baqa

Word, מלה, λόγοσ, كلمة

2007-03-04T12:54:00.000+02:00

Language has been an important feature over the past few weeks. First off I graduated from the Morasha ulpan. I learnt so much there and was speaking with some degree of fluency, but Morasha has only one class and they encourage people to try other styles and get into work. So I took an entrance test at Ulpan Milah and following the start of their program, quickly realized that I was in the wrong place - the academic style and attention on writing, reading and comprehension has meant that my own need to speak has been a little lost. They'd marked me as level B+ but only had a B class in the mornings. So I left there, argued most of my money back and have been looking for the right ulpan for me for the past 3 weeks.

It’s frightening to see that I’m losing the good Hebrew if only because Jerusalem is so anglicised. I can get about almost speaking no Hebrew at all - trying to persuade people to talk Hebew is also a challenge as they want to practice their English on me. It’s seems strange that I have come to a country that is more dedicated to its culture & heritage than any other country I know and yet the people in my city are affected by the desire to speak English.

So the plan is to try and start working in an all-Hebrew environment – perhaps a nursery or in a voluntary org with younger kids – that way we’ll both be learning and the embarrassment of speaking like a 1-year-old will be less noticeable.

The second incidence of language came with a talk I gave to a group of young women on a programme called “Building Bridges for Peace.” The charity supports a year long program for Arab & Jewish-Israeli students. The particular event that I was part of was a 2-day course on Jewish & Muslim communities & histories. The young women had spent their day going to Yad Vashem and doing a workshop. They then came to Kol Haneshamah Synagogue & Community buildings to hear me talk about the Reform Movement, the community & it’s life and then a description of the service that they were about to come into.

So why was language so important?

These young women were largely Palestinian and Israeli Arab. The common language was English. However there was a fundamental difficulty. Both sides were using a language which was not their mother tongue. We all struggled to try and find meaning to the conversation but with great difficulty. Apart from me, it seemed that none of the group knew the cultural values invested in English and so were oblivious to the subtleties of the discussion that we could have had. Namely – if the young women had have worked in their native tongues, with all the subtleties and cultural references that they would be more able to see & use, perhaps a better understanding would have evolved.

In learning a new language I guess I am more sensitive to this. I also felt from both myself and other group members, that if our linguistic understanding had have been better, we might have gotten further, we might have understood each other more, and whilst uncovering real difficulties, also find a better way to develop peace.

As a therapist I understand language to be crucial. We uncover difficulties we did not know through slips of the tongue, talking around a subject and thinking about the subtleties of what we have just said. How can we be therapeutic on a deeper level if we do not understand the language we are using?
Maybe we need to promote bilingual Hebrew-Arabic schools rather than the Arabic-English or Hebrew-English classes in schools. Perhaps this is the important work for peace in understanding each other.

News Abounds

2007-02-01T11:17:00.000+02:00

The Aftermath of the Jerusalem Post article both terrified and pleased us. On the one hand both Avi & I felt that it was a touch revelatory to go so public with our now legally-recognised marriage. On the other hand we have started to see the benefit in that other news companies wanted to take our success story - The Pink News in the UK, the Advocate, QUERTY - a Queer Youth US website, Brazilian, Italian and other news organisations have taken on our story.

I feel pride in the belief that all of this news within the Gay & Straight Press shows Israel in a more positive light - a number of the articles draw attention to the fact that Israel is the most tolerant state in the Middle East, and that unlike the surrounding states who imprison/hang/behead gay men, Israel seeks to create a more diverse and egalitarian country.

In conjunction with our news I'm also delighted to hear about the Survey of views from American Conservative Jews about the Same-Sex debate. The study initiated by the Head of JTS, one of the two Masorti Rabbinic training schools in America, shows that there is a significant majority in both Rabbinic & Lay movements in favour of ordaining openly gay & lesbian students to the Rabbinate as well as recognising same-sex relationships within the Conservative Jewish community. Perhaps the Israeli Masorti movement too will start to understand that inclusion is best - where there is a Rabbinic Will there is usually a Rabbinic Way.

Aside from all of this media attention I have more personal news - I've started learning at the Conservative Yeshiva and am now enjoying classes in Modern Jewish Philosophy, Mishnah, Psalms & Liturgy. So after 10 years since graduation from Oxford I'm finally coming back to formal Theological study.

Ulpan has proven to be a consuming experience but I've decided to access other styles of learning and to keep myself in thinking-mode. Learning at Yeshiva is a great experience and yet I still feel indebted to Rabbi Janet whose Chevrutah (study sessions) with me has proved more than just a foundation for Jewish learning.

Yesterday I also graduated from Ulpan Morasha - a twinge of sadness hit us all at the ending of the 5 month term of intensive Hebrew learning. Studying with the same people Sunday-thru-Thursday, 8am-1pm, has exposed me to new friendships and challenges. I'm now speaking with some degree of fluency but I'm going to continue to learn Hebrew at Ulpan Milah in their next intensive morning class. More symbolically the end of this 1st ulpan marks the closure of my very first stage in aliyah & absorption. The challenges that faced me in mid-August '06 have been, to some degree, overcome - Jerusalem is now home and going into another ulpan will be faced knowing that I have a good foundation in Hebrew & Ulpan education.

Now I'm faced with getting my Hebrew skills upto scratch so that I can start practicing as a therapist, and to register in Israel as a licensed social worker. I'm also starting to work out possible routes for Smicha - Rabbinic Studies - but more about that one day soon.

As for now - I'm feeling the relief of a week-long vacation, and the pleasure of seeing Almond trees blossom - tomorrow heralds in Tu Bishvat the day when Israel starts it's Spring season

Hag Same'ach - חג שמח

Civil Recognition

2007-01-29T20:37:00.000+02:00

So now it's official - following the November High Court decision in Israel, and after a trawl through 3 bureaucracies Avi & I are now considered legally married. Today feels momentous not only for us but also for other same-sex couples and individuals who hope to join us in committed relationships. We are the first couple to register our civil marriage in Jerusalem and we've already attracted some media attention.

I've been holding back from talking about the process until it's been completed but, understandably, we feel both a sense of relief and pride in what we have done. As you can see from my article below on Gay Pride, the tensions about same-sex love has been high over the past 6 months. But now my Identity Card shows my husbands name and my status as "Nasui" (married). Who would have thought that here in the Middle East it would have been possible?

Yes it still riles the Right-wing and the Ultra-Orthdox, but thankfully we live in a secular state which holds the human dignity over and above fundamentalist religions and prejudices. But even with this, both Avi & I feel that we have something to celebrate as it's something destinctively gay and destinctively Jewish. The fact that people here in Jerusalem have expressed so much joy at our engagement & marriage, presents a different image of Jerusalem-shel-homophobes.

There is still hope...

http://www.jpost.com/servlet/Satellite?pagename=JPost%2FJPArticle%2FShowFull&cid=1167467842994

Changing the Mold

2006-12-31T15:49:00.000+02:00

Following snow now melted, the Jerusalem cold has set in and has forced us into hibernation, watching mindless TV & eating comfort-food.

The snow and the news brought me back to this time last year and before. The hustle and bustle in the malls, the fights in the stores from ill-tempered parents and their children, the piped carols in the supermarket and the false sense of cheer as cashiers wished you a "Happy Christmas" as we all new that most of us didn't believe in Christmas or, hated it for it's family infighting and expense. Indeed, this year has been blissful. I had no Christmas party to excuse myself from, no sympathetic look as I explained to a colleague that I didn't celebrate Christmas, and only the usual bustle in the mall. It's absence was notable and allowed a greater degree of comfort by it's disappearance.

Christmas consumerism for us in Israel is only slightly buoyed by the Christian tourists and by the exodus of Jews from חוץ לארץ (outside of Israel) who are here to enjoy the Christmas-free season and meet up with family & friends. It's strange that the "Silent Night" is more possible for us as Jews than in the Angel-thronged cribs & pine-trees of Europe.

And yet the News kept us informed that the cacophony from the West was yet again focused on Israel & the Palestinian Authority. This time Archbishops from England had made a visit to בת לחם (Beit Lechem) and chose to pass comment on the Palestinian Christian condition. They focused on the suffering incurred. In their sermons blame was laid around the neck, not of fundamentalist Islamists, but on Israel, the West and the American dream for a "Democratic" Middle East.

Israeli columnists pointed to the Archbishops' remarks as self-blaming, a way of deflecting anger from Islamic leaders and peoples. One writer noted the clergymen were trying to dodge the same fire that befell the Pope by avoiding a call that Islamic fundamentalists should be held accountable.

However one might see it as a political discourse, it could also be seen as a typically Christian move - a case of Christian guilt and an obsession with blame, basic-fault, and the original sin. The Archbishops' discourse, once again, focused solely on the plight of peoples which have continued to fight both internally & externally. No reference was made to the plethora of cultural and arts events and no emphasis on the positive work in Arab-Jewish dialogue.

What would happen if the religious and political leaders ceased to use so readily the language of victim-aggressor, transgressed-sinner, oppressed-oppressor? Would the role of both change?

As with public attitudes towards mental health, so do the public commentators form black & white opinons about the Israeli-Palestinian discourse. It is safer to polarise the "healthy" from the "sick" and easier to deal with two sides if given in greater degrees of separation. Simplistic notions of sinner and victim can, eventually, lead to deeper levels of misunderstanding and cause further harm to any meaningful dialogue.

In psychotherapy we talk about the sickness-role as one that is both real and yet created by the client. In working with patients we look towards taking not only the sickness away but also neutralising the sickness-role from the person. This taking away of a negative, life-impinging, role cannot be done by focusing on the illness itself but rather on the capabilities of the individual. Focusing on the strengths of each individual and community, each co-existence project, each moderate thinker, could provide our countries with greater abilities to reconcile.

A J. Heschel & W. Bion both advocated a suspension of such categorisation between good-bad, healthy-unhealthy. In Bion the Outsider/Observer must refrain from categorisation and is asked just to witness the complexities that arise in the patients free-association. Like the psychotherapist with his patient, being in tune on all of the different levels takes considerable time to develop such knowledge & understanding.

Heschel similarly talks of restraining our attempts to formulate events. In order to become "Radically Amazed" we need to suspend the philosophical and formal categories of that which has gone before and, through abandoning such preconceptions, become open to new possibilities. Only in taking this path can we avoid seeing everything through the same old lens.

Perhaps it would be better if the clerics & politicians, who prefer to draw simplistic formulations of the Middle East, suspend their wearied theories and take time to really observe what is going on here in Israel & in the Palestinian Authority. What would happen if politicians gave greater emphasis in their discourse to the working relationships that abound between Arabs & Jews?

Pride & Prejudice

2006-12-09T21:53:00.000+02:00

Many of my friends have asked me to write about our experiences of the Pride Parade/Rally. The parade was supposed to take place in August last year but was postponed due to the disengagement from settlements, the one this year planned for August was also cancelled because of the Lebanese conflict. Eventually a date was set for November and so the weeks leading up to the event showed a deep divide between Secualr and socialist Israelis and the Charedi (so-called Ultra-Orthos) & Right-wingers.

The event brought untold violence from the Far Right movement and Charedim, with a billow of smoke rising above Mea Sharim (the ultra-orthodox neighbourhood in Jerusalem) most nights of the fortnight before the Pride Rally. Thousands of police were drawn in and the violence exceeded anything that we had seen since the disengagement. It was challenging to hear the far-right speakers as they segregated themselves off as "the Jews" and those of us who are by birth or conversion also Jews as "the enemy." The false distinctions and violence were just the beginning of the battle on free speech and equality. The events in Mea Sharim shook me.

The Charedi protest became even more violent, trading in peaceful demonstrations to placing empty bombs in bags and rioting in the streets. The threat to life was notable and seemed so contradictory to the fundaments of Jewish Ethics. How can a fellow Jew behave like this towards another? How can a Torah scholar pick up the plough and turn it back into a gun? How can the ultimate principle of Pikuach HaNefesh (the principle of preserving life at all costs) be so easily disregarded?

The Pride march turned into a rally because of the high security warnings and attending it, Avi & I saw a peaceful event with people from across the Israeli community - Secular, Religious, Mizrachi, Ashkenasi, straight & queer.

Coming from the UK where same-sex commitment legislation had been passed, and having just gotten married in Toronto to Avi, I was considerably shaken by the level of stranglehold the Charedi community had taken on the fundaments of democracy & human rights. I believed in their right to protest just as we had the right to protest for equality. But I could not defend their destructive behaviour.

I was also struck by the signs hanging in the backwaters of Mea Sharim - "Judaism is not Zionism, Zionism is not Judaism - End the State of Israel now" - the violence towards a peaceful parade such as Gay Pride seemed odd when hearing the same far-right leaders complaining that Israel was becoming sexually immoral and that the parade was taking place in "The Holy City"... I wondered which city they were talking about. The Old City? Mea Sharim? If the protest took place outside of those two areas they would, in the consistency of their theological geography, still think that it was in the land of exile. It made little sense.

Left somewhat bewildered and confused I talked to friends who had been at the Parade 2 years before. Was there nudity? Were people having sex on the street? Their responses were all the same. "No, just people hanging out together, only a few in drag and the rest as though they were going for a walk on a normal day." This was a far cry from the rabbinic responses that the rally/parade would exhibit nudity, licentiousness and sodomy...

A part of me wished for a more daring crowd of provocateurs and force the issue that diversity is an essential component in equality. As much as I like to wear trousers and keep my clothes on, I would have been pleased to see people push the libertarian point.

And yet I also thought that, in keeping with the Jerusalem scene, the demure and covered-up version was a truer representation of the LBGQT community in Jerusalem.

Rabbis who I normally agree with called for the parade to take place in Tel-Aviv, but I think they missed the point. Jerusalem is our capital city - the centre for Israeli democracy. Just as other groups protest the inequality of their rights next to the government buildings, so too should we have that right.

The day eventually drew close, the Charedim made a last-bid for their cause and showed how senseless and inhumane they could become by parading animals down the original march route (I wondered if the Animal Rights groups complained). And then the event - a parade scaled down to a rally because of the security risks - took place. It was like my friends predicted - peaceful, demure, political and essentially a friendly gathering.

So what will the Charedim say to their rioting children now? What seemed better? A peaceful event about the love of men and women for each other or the violence of blind fundamentalism?

Epiphany

2006-12-05T18:08:00.000+02:00

So this is the first of hopefully many posts. Like I said in the profile - I'm writing this to be another voice in the cacophony of blogs, but with the specific aim of letting my friends, family and other viewers know what it's like for a new Jewish immigrant in Jerusalem.

I called my blog "Jew on the Fringe" to try and help describe my feeling that it's impossible to fit in wherever I am, but especially in Jerusalem; impossible to ever feel that we are anything less than people who encounter Otherness. It's a privilege as well as an honour to be here - but with honour comes the burden of responsibility.

Jerusalem is a city with so many cultures that we all seem to be battling for space. It's impossible to be anything other than on the fringe. We even have a gallery called "Museum on the Seam." But I also think that the title describes best the kind of person that I am - someone who enjoys the interaction between the familiar and the strange, between a known language and a new way of communicating be it in Hebrew, French or Sign. Being on the fringe forces us to see the unknown be it ugly or beautiful. It's about being on the frontline and rejecting the comfort of an arm-chair version of identity. New feelings emerge and new ideas occur on the edge.

I also work here with people who don't always fit in to the "respectable" category - one of the kids I work with gave him and his comrades a beautiful but painful title of "the Lost." It seemed to encompass my thoughts that whilst many consider us damned, we are also a people who meander - finding new experiences and opportunities.

As a therapist I used to think that Jerusalem Syndrome was just an internal and personal malady but now I think that it's a cultural entity - so many people's hopes and beliefs infuse this place - people both within the city as well as people far away. Some of us pray towards the site of the 2nd temple, other's believe it's where Muhammad ascended or where Jesus will return. We inhale this intoxicated air. Little wonder that we find ourselvespart of a spiritual and physical battle that sometimes looks like a drunkards brawl.

My battle started when I arrived in August 2006 to find a country post-war and ready for introspection. The government had just slashed it's budget for Ethiopian Jews to make aliyah and the Gay Pride Parade was just about to start heating up the tension of whether or not we live in an Orthodox Jewish state or a State for all Jews. Moving from a comfortable place in London seemed almost an insane act. But yet I continue to believe that I am doing the right thing.

I met up with a friend just recently and had this decision reconfirmed. We met for drinks after a pro-dialogue event. As we sat in an East Jerusalem cafe/bar our English conversation was overheard by people who had just walked in. They joined us and one of the women gradually worked her way round the crowd to talk to me - we had something in common in that she had been at Oxford teaching international relations and I had been an undergrad there. She questioned me about how I managed to fare in a largely Christian college and theology faculty. She patted my yarmulke when she asked me. It was a strange form of physical contact - I felt invaded both by her patronising stance in the way that she asked the question as well as the fact that she felt that she had the right to touch me - patting someone's head can be a subjugating act - something one would do with their dog or a child. I told her that life here is easier but that people were generally kind at my college. I answered and withdrew.

Will she ever realise her behaviour was inappropriate and that she was suffering from the subtleties of being anti-semitic? Probably not. But I carried on my conversation with some people from Tel-Aviv. Did they notice the interaction? Did they think there was anything wrong?

The Tel-Avivim complained about the state's existence - how it had only brought cruelty & suffering for Arabs & Bedouins. One Quaker peacenik from the US joined in and commented about the role of Israel, and yet for the 2 years she had been in East Jerusalem she had never been to a synagogue and barely interacted within Israeli society. She had shut the fringe out.

I was asked what London was like. I think they expected me to give interesting and titillating extracts from the city of multi-culture. But I chose to talk about my day-to-day encounters of anti-semitism in London. They were shocked to hear that 2 synagogues had been burnt down over the past couple of years in my neighbourhood that graves were regularly desecrated in the Jewish cemeteries with swastikas and abusive words. They didn't seem to believe me when I told them how I had crossed a park in central London to have a group of Bangladeshi kids shout "kill the Jews" & "death to Israel" - some were as young as 4 or 5. Nor did they seem to know of the regular, more subtle forms of anti-semitism, the stares, the fact that people don't sit next to you on the bus and that some areas are just no go whilst wearing a yarmulke.

It seemed strange that the people I sat with were dialoguing for peace and yet did not seem to know why the State exists.

For me the State of Israel is a necessity - yes - it's still essential that there is a place where it is safe just to be a Jew.